A Collection Of NationXReader Oneshots
by MissDoubleONinja
Summary: Just as the title states. This is basically a collection of fluffy, serious, and flat out love triangle stories. Hope you enjoy! ReaderXVarious
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

This is basiclly a collection of oneshots. Some might be fluffly, some may be depressing, and some are just love triangles. But I hope you enjoy them all the same!

First couple is: BritainXReader

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**Your POV**

You despised these world meetings and you had a damn good reason to.

France. He claimed to be deeply in love with you and every time there was a world meeting, he always tried something. You were half hoping he'd get sick and stay home, just so you could get through the meeting without having the sudden desire to murder someone painfully.

You had arrived early and the only person there besides you was Britain. Not a surprise, the man was the most punctual person you knew. This worked out rather well for you; Britain was your best friend and secret crush. But, he probably just saw you as a friend. He was the type to like books over girls. But that's what you loved about him.

You greeted him and started a good conversation. You talked until the meeting began. "Excuse me, ma chere. May I sit here?" You looked up and stifled a groan. Looks like France didn't get sick. But really, did the man ever give up?

He didn't wait for you to answer and sat next to you, flashing you a flirtious smile. You rolled your eyes, turning your attention to the person speaking. It was America, going on about global warming and global man. You rolled your eyes again. What a childish idea.

You felt a hand on your leg and you flinched, but showed no emotion. You weren't going to give him any satisfaction. But the hand continued to go up and you felt your face grow warm. Ok, that was it, you'd had enough. "Hands to yourself, bastard." You hissed, forcing his hand onto his leg.

France only grinned, raising his eyebrows. "Ah, but you enjoyed it, did you not?" He had the nerve to wrap an arm around your shoulder.

Had this not been a meeting, you would have slugged him already. "Hands. Off." You were only going to say it once.

Slowly, he pulled his arm away. You thought he was done- until you felt his hand on your leg again. You sighed.

This was going to be a long meeting.

**Britain's POV**

He watched you from across the table. Looks like you were having an argument with France. No surprise there, it happened every year. Britain didn't like it, though.

Every year, frog face tried something with you, and it really pissed Britain off. I mean really, what gave frog face the right to hug you and try...sexual actions with you? That was something only lovers did, and it was obvious that you hated him. Not that that ever stopped frog face; he was tenacious, Britain would give him that.

It still irked him to no end, though. Britain really, really liked you, so seeing frog face do things to you made him want to murder the French perv. He actually sort of hoped you would get mad enough to punch that sicko in the face; I mean, nothing says fuck off like a good punch.

**Your POV**

The meeting was finally over and you made your way to the door. There was no way you would stay any longer.

"Wait, ma chere!" The Frenchman called after you. Like hell you'd wait!

You ran to the door, and almost made it- but you tripped over your feet. You silently cursed your clumsiness. France wrapped his arms around you, smiling. "Ah, ma chere! And you thought you could escape me! Smack, smack, smack!" It's like the guy wanted you to punch him in the face.

But then, to your surprise, his smile faded and was replaced by a serious look. "Can we speak, in private?"

You'd admit, you were curious. You'd never seen France get serious before. It made you wonder what he wanted.

You nodded in agreement.

"What's this about?" You asked, crossing your arms, your eyebrows raised.

The Frenchman got down on one knee and looked up at you. "I would like you to marry me." You froze. Oh. Hell. No.

"...What?" You breathed.

"I would like you to marry me." He repeated. And here you thought he was just a perv. He did claim to love you, but you thought it was just an excuse to be pervy. You didn't think he was serious.

"France, I-."

"Please!" He stood up, grabbing your hands, his face dangerously close to yours. You could hear your heart pounding out of your chest. "I do love you!"

"She's not marrying you!" You and France turned to look at the shouter.

It was Britain?

**Britain's POV**

Britain was absolutely pissed. Marriage? What the hell was frog face thinking?! She wasn't marrying him!

He stomped over to the stunned Frenchman and grabbed the collar of his shirt. "For your information, she's marrying me! So fuck off!" With that said, he grabbed your hand and pulled you away, leaving a stunned Frenchman behind you.

"Hey, Britain. When did I agree to marry you?"

His eyes widened. Damn. "Well, uh-!" The blond could do nothing but stutter, his face getting redder and redder.

You smiled and swiftly pressed your lips to his. "Stupid. What took you so long?

**THE END**


	2. Chapter 2

**Pairing: Past!AmericaXPast!Reader. The song is Time Of Dying by Three Day's Grace.**

**On the ground I lay,**

**Motionless in pain,**

You cursed under your breath, your dark blue uniform getting darker as your blood spilling onto the ground, creating a bright red puddle around you. There were shouts and gun fire all around you as men hit the ground, the life fading away from them. This was war, no doubt about that.

You gritted your teeth as the pain in your stomach continued to get worse. Damn those red coats! You had been fighting, going through clusters of red coats- until somehow, one managed to strike you with a bullet. Now, you were on the ground, your life bleeding away.

You curled your trembling fingers into a fist. Well they, at least, still seemed to be at your command. But what shame you felt, to be struck down by a red coat! You got too cocky, too confident.

It was the reason you were edging closer and closer to death with each passing second.

**I can see my life flashing before my eyes,**

Is this what happens when you die? Your life seemed to pass by before your eyes.

You were five, running through the grass, a giggle escaping your lips as you began to scale your favorite tree. You were ten, learning how to properly shoot a gun and swordfight like a man. You were fifteen, sharing your first kiss with Alfred...Alfred.

What would happen if you died? Would he break? You know you would if he died. If he wasn't broken already, that is. He doesn't show it, but you knew fighting with Arthur, his "big brother", deeply hurt the American.

You were what kept him sane. What would happen if you died?

**Did I fall asleep?**

**Is this all a dream? **

Is it? It certainly felt real, but maybe it was just a dream.

You let out an insane sort of giggle, coughing up a little blood as you did so. Yes, just a dream. You were probably fast asleep on your cot, dreaming about a battle that had yet to come.

You coughed up some more blood. Ok, so maybe it wasn't a dream.

**Wake me up! **

**I'm living a nightmare,**

You so desperately wanted Alfred with you. He needed to wake you up from this nightmare you were currently trying to escape.

You coughed up a little blood. Was...was this it? Was it the end for you? You felt your heart's beat getting slower.

Were you going to die?

**I will not die,**

**I will not die,**

NO!

No, you couldn't die yet! You had so much to live for! If you died, there would be nothing. No more music, no more training, no more warm, summer days with Alfred.

There would be absolutely nothing in the hell you were sure you'd end up in when you were dead.

**I will survive!**

You grabbed your blood soaked sword lying on the ground and used it to help you up. No. You refused to die. It wasn't your time yet. You refused to let Alfred be alone.

You managed to look up, your glare like poison as you glared at the red coats charging towards you, their guns raised high with the intention to take your life.

You sword gripping tightly in your shaking hands, you let out a battle cry as you charged forward, ready to fight the red coats.

**I will not die,**

**I'll wait here for you,**

Dodge, move, strike.

That was what you did, over and over, as you fought the red coats. You would fight as hard as you could until Alfred arrived. You were willing to wait, so long as you got to see him again. At least one last time.

The red coats called a retreat, running away, curses flying through the air faster than a bullet. Considering your injury, you decided not to pursue them any further.

Your sword hit the ground with a clatter as it slipped out of your limp hands. You felt like crap, there was no way you could fight anymore today. You fell back, your legs no longer able to hold you up- only to hit a broad chest.

You looked up. The American blond smiled down at you. "Hey, there."

**I will not die, **

**When you're beside me,**

You sighed in relief. Thank god. "You're late." You mumbled.

He flashed you a grin. "Yeah, I know. Sorry about that." He gently picked you up. "Now, why don't you get some sleep? You fought well."

A small smile gracing your lips, you allowed your eyes to flutter shut as you faded away from the world in your lover's arms.

**I will not die,**

**I'll wait here for you,**

**In my time of dying,**

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**please, please, PLEASE review!**

**Please?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Pairing: FranceXReader**

**France, I'm going to kill you!" You screamed, grabbing the coller of his shirt, your face bright red from yelling.**

"Why, ma chere?" The blond Frenchman asked, his eyebrows raised.

"You know damn well why!"

You really don't know how he did it(perverts have their ways, you thought) but somehow he got into your room and swiped all your clothes, leaving only a dress for you to wear. The blond bastard knew damn well that you hated dresses with a fiery passion, so you didn't know if he was trying to piss you off or if he was just being a pervert.

Now you would admit, the dress was rather pretty; it was a deep purple color, sleeveless, that went to your knees, with a black belt around the waist. It was simple, but rather nice, not that you'd ever tell him that.

His shock gone now, a small, flirtious smile crept onto the blond's face. "But why do you mind, ma chere? You look beautiful."

You rolled your eyes at the complient. If it had been anyone elese, you might have been flattered, but with France you never really knew if it was genuine or not. I mean, the man flirted with just about anything that wasn't dead, much to your annoyance. But he's probably just using the same line he's used on god knows how many other women.

"Yeah right." You spat, narrowing your eyes. Before you could blink, the blond was right in front of you, one hand on your waist, the other holding your chin. You turned even redder, from blush this time.

"I wasn't just saying that, you know." He whispered, his face inches from yours. You could hear your heart beating, a shiver of anticipation running up your spine. With a smile, he kissed your cheek, then released you and walked away.

Leaving you extremly flustered and confused.

You slowly moved your hand up to touch the cheek he'd kissed, your blush darkening. Then your eyes narrowed at his retreating figure. Dammit, he was good! "You bastard!" You yelled.

You could have sworn you heard him snickering and your face became redder than Spain's tomatos. Stupid France!

God, you hated it when your ass of a boyfriend did that to you.

**THE END**

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**So I'm taking requests as of now. I'd appreciate it if you guys told me what you want to see. Please?**


	4. Chapter 4

**First up on my request list is Spain: **

The Spanish man hummed cheerfully, chopping tomatos at an impressive speed, a sweet, content smile playing on his lips. Italy's birthday was just around the corner, so Spain had decided to make him some homemade tomato sauce.

Right when he finished chopping the last tomato, he heard a knock on the door. Curious as to who it was, he put the knife down and opened the door. It was you, but there was clearly something wrong; usually you were cheerfull and smiling, but right now tears were streaking quickly down your slightly flushed cheeks. "Can I...come in?" You asked quietly.

"Si." The spanish man nodded, allowing you to enter his home. You thanked him quietly. There was a moment of tense silence. "Do you want some tea?" The Spanish man asked. He wasn't one for tea, but you were, for some unknown reason. He always had a few teabags, just in case you came over.

You plopped down on the couch, flashing Spain a sad smile. "Thank you, Spain."

"What happened?" Spain asked, setting the freshly prepared cup of tea in front of you. He wanted to know why a strong person like you was crying, because it was just about impossible to make you cry. You didn't answer, taking a long sip of your tea.

"Please tell me." He sat next to you, looking at you intently.

You looked up from your tea, glaring. "Romano's a bastard." Spain sighed; of course it involved Romano. Romano had been your crush for a while. To be honest, it made Spain a bit jealous, but he'd never say that outloud.

"I went over to his house." You began your story, your gaze returning to your cup of tea. "He wasn't on the main floor, so I went to his room. And I found him kissing the neck of some slut!" Furious tears began to spill. "How could he do that to me?!"

Spain didn't say anything at first. But then he wrapped a reassuring arm around your shoulder, pulling you close. "Don't cry, little one. Perhaps Romano isn't the one."

"Then who is?" You mumbled, resting your head against his chest.

Spain didn't answer this. To be honest, he'd always liked you, a lot. But, since you were in love with Romano, he'd never bothered to say anything. But did you still love Romano after what he just did? "Do you still love Romano?"

"I don't know." You replied honestly. "Some part of me really hates him now. But the other part...It's complicated, Spain." He could understand that. Love was one of life's many mysteries.

You sighed, standing up. "Thank you, Spain." You smiled slightly. "I really needed that." You started to make your way to the door, but you were stopped when you felt a strong hand wrap around your wrist. "What is it, Spain?" You asked, your eyebrows raised in suprise.

To be honest, Spain wasn't really sure. But some part of him wanted you to stay, if only for a little longer. You smiled. "You're sweet, Spain." You mumbled, hugging him.

Spain wasn't really sure what caused him to do it, but he gently grabbed your chin and captured your lips. Your eyes widened. You couldn't believe what was happening. Spain was...kissing you! But, for some reason, it felt right. You slowly closed your eyes and began to kiss back.

It was Spain's turn to be suprised. You were kissing back? Did that mean...? You gently pulled away.

"Know what, Spain?" You flashed him a smile. "I do feel better."

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Up next is Prussia, guys!


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